


The Light of Love

by iantosgal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iantosgal/pseuds/iantosgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Stiles, who wasn't a wolf but was more Scott's pack than even Isaac, who was like a brother to Scott and was the one who always found the answers. Stiles, who had burrowed underneath Derek's skin and taken up residence in his heart, completely without asking. Stiles, who Derek found himself loving more and more each day. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Stiles, who was currently kneeling in the centre of the loft, with his arms bound tight behind his back and his face battered and bruised, blood trickling from his temple, down the pale, soft skin of his face. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light of Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I found half finished and thought I would give it a quick polish and post. Just a short little fic featuring Sterek and Panic Attacks.
> 
> Title comes from _The Light of Love_ by Gerry Rafferty which came on just as I was about post this and seemed apt. What is it with me and song titles for fic titles lately??

Derek threw the loft door open with a screeching rattle that tore through the air. He'd spent the day in the woods with Scott and Isaac, running at full speed and enjoying the lightness it brought. He wasn't sure how the pack would work now. Scott was the alpha and Derek was struggling with the shift in power because Scott still had so much to learn. But when he looked back on his own time as an alpha, he couldn't really say that he had known it all. In fact, he barely knew a thing and half of his pack had been killed. Maybe he wasn't right to be the alpha. It was true Scott had the natural ability to lead and over time, he would become the alpha they needed, Derek just wished there was someone like his mother to show Scott the way. The only werewolf with experience that they really knew was Peter and Derek wouldn't trust his uncle as far as he could throw him. 

So for now, Derek ran with the boys but he wasn't sure he had been accepted into the pack. He was a friend, yes, but he wasn't so sure he was part of the inner circle. His main tie to the McCall pack, was Stiles.

Stiles, who wasn't a wolf but was more Scott's pack than even Isaac, who was like a brother to Scott and was the one who always found the answers. Stiles, who had burrowed underneath Derek's skin and taken up residence in his heart, completely without asking. Stiles, who Derek found himself loving more and more each day. 

Stiles, who was currently kneeling in the centre of the loft, with his arms bound tight behind his back and his face battered and bruised, blood trickling from his temple, down the pale, soft skin of his face. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, rushing forward only to come to an abrupt halt as he realised a thick line of mountain ash encircled Stiles, keeping him from getting close. 

“Such a shame,” a voice said, echoing in the almost empty space. “Just a boy really. His whole life turned upside down by you and your family. You uncle bites his friend and now he spends every day just waiting for the death blow to fall. All from one stupid decision to drag his friend off into the woods and look for a dead body.” The man stepped forward from the shadows. He was tall, not much older then Derek himself, with a thick head of straw coloured hair and sparkling, blue eyes. His shoulders were broad and hinted at the power hidden beneath the heavy, dark coat he wore. Derek bristled, a growl building in his chest and his eyes beginning to glow. “And then, he goes one better. He falls in love with you. Of all the stupid things he's done, that has to be the stupidest.”

“Derek...” Stiles whispered and Derek startled when the man spun and backhanded Stiles hard across the face, sending him sprawling to the side. 

“Who are you?” Derek demanded but the man continued as if neither of them had said a word. 

“But you...Derek, I can't work out of you're an imbecile or if you have been blinded by the desire to have some kind of human contact. How could you let him fall in love with you? How could you put him in this situation? You must have known that sooner or later, someone was going to use him to get to you.”

“Leave him alone,” Derek growled, claws extended and eyes flashing blue, even though the mountain ash meant there was nothing he could do. 

“Everyone you love, dies Derek. It's the way of the world. You let Stiles close and now he'll pay the ultimate sacrifice.”

“Just tell me what you want. Anything, whatever it is, you can have it if you just let him go.”

“What if I want your life?”

“Take it,” Derek replied immediately. 

“No. Derek, shut up,” Stiles said, trying to push himself up from his prone position on the floor. 

“You would do that? For him, you would give up your life?”

“Yes.”

“Well...is that not the definition of love?”

“Oh my God, what sort of warped dictionary do you have,” Stiles said, finally managing to push himself up into a sitting position, arms still forced behind his back. “I don't know what your problem is. We've never met you before. What could we possibly have to done to warrant either of us dying?”

“Oh Stiles,” the man said, crouching down in front of him. “You were dead the moment you first set eyes on Derek Hale.”

“No,” Stiles said, softly, leaning forwards. “I was saved.” Without warning he brought his head back sharply and head butted the man with everything he had, causing him to tumble backwards, a hand pressed to his face. As soon as he tilted backwards, Stiles threw himself towards the line of ash and swiped a section away with his foot. 

Derek roared. 

He bolted through the gap and grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, dragging him to his feet and throwing him down on the table, one hand still encircling his throat whilst he snarled in his face. 

“Who are you?” he shouted. “Why are you here?”

The man wheezed out a laugh from beneath Derek's hand. 

“I came to kill you. I came to do what the Argent's never managed. I came to rid Beacon Hill's of it's werewolf infestation.”

“I should rip your throat out with my teeth.”

“Even if you do, it won't change anything. More will come. I wont be the last person to use that boy to get to you and the rest of your pack. He's the one that ties you together, don't you see? Take Stiles, and it hurts you all.”

“How do you know so much about us?”

“Everybody knows. When Christopher Argent decided to cut ties with everyone, word got around. The hunter community knows everything about your strange little pack and we know how to take you apart piece by piece.”

“I will never let that happen.”

“No, you'd die first, right?” the man laughed. “Die and leave Stiles all alone.”

“You fu...”

“Derek!” Stiles shouted from the floor and Derek startled. He looked at the man before him properly and realised he was gasping for breath in between each word, his face red and eyes bulging. He let go of the man and allowed him a second to suck in a deep, shuddering breath, before leaning close enough to whisper in his ear. 

“I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to let you rot in jail for what you did to him.”

Derek punched the man in the face, so hard that he knocked him unconscious instantly, the man's limp body sliding off the table to pool in a heap on the floor. Derek spun round and raced over to Stiles, swiftly removing the rope that bound his wrists, rubbing gently at the burn marks left in it's wake, and gripped his chin, tilting his head to the side. He took stock of the injuries the man had inflicted. There was a gash on his forehead, bruises along his cheekbone and jaw, one eye was slowly swelling and turning purple and grazes littered his arms. Derek pulled Stiles forward and didn't miss the wince and the hiss of pained air that was forced out of Stiles by the movement. Definitely some bruising to the ribs, possibly something more. 

“We should get you to the hospital,” Derek said. 

“We need to call my Dad first,” Stiles reasoned, fumbling to get his phone out of his pocket. His hands were shaking, his breathing becoming more laboured and Derek realised with a jolt, that this was the start of a panic attack. He reached forward and gripped Stiles' hand firmly in his. 

“Stiles...baby, it's ok. You're safe,” Derek said softly. Stiles nodded his head quickly, but his hand still shook where Derek clasped it between both of his. Stiles' breath was coming in short, sharp, painful gasps and his free hand rested shakily on his chest, as if he were trying to force his heart to steady it's frantic pace. Derek listened to the uneven beat and stared at Stiles' suddenly pale face, his bruises and cuts standing out in stark contrast. 

Derek forced himself to remain calm and thought about everything he'd read about panic attacks. After everything that had happened with Jennifer Blake and the sacrifices, Lydia had pulled him to one side and quietly explained what had happened at the school. Now, if Deaton was to be believed, there was a darkness around Stiles' heart and it made sense that more panic attacks would be in their near future, so Derek had taken to the internet (yes, he did actually know how to access the internet, contrary to popular opinion) and read up on everything he could find. He'd even asked Melissa if she had any suggestions and she had looked suitably impressed, glad that he was stepping up to help out her surrogate son. 

First rule, stay calm yourself. He was no good to Stiles if he was freaking out and shouting at him to calm down. He moved back slightly, giving Stiles room if he needed it. 

“It's ok,” he said, again. “You're ok. Can you breath with me, Stiles?”

“I-I-no...no...I can't.”

“Yes you can.”

“I c-can't...”

“Yes, you can. I know you can.” Derek brought their entwined hands up towards him and pressed Stiles' palm flat against his chest. “Here we go, in...” Derek breathed in deeply and smiled encouragingly when Stiles tried his best to copy him. “and out...in...and out...you're doing great, Stiles.”

Slowly, Stiles began to get his breathing under control. 

“That's good, baby. I'm so proud of you, you're doing great.”

“Did you get all these phrases of some self help website or something?” Stiles asked, with a shaky laugh. 

“Yes, actually. Did they help?”

“Surprisingly, yeah.”

“Good. Can I hold you?” Stiles nodded quickly and practically fell into Derek's open arms, still trembling slightly. “Still meant every word,” Derek said into Stiles' hair. “You _are_ safe and I _am_ proud of you...and I love you so much and I'm so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because he did this because of me, because of us...”

“No, Derek, no,” Stiles said, sitting up so quickly he almost sent Derek flying. His hands fisted in the front of Derek's shirt, his breathing was becoming laboured again, his eyes wide and frantic. “It wasn't because of us. Ok? Don't say that...God, don't say something stupid like 'we can't be together' or 'it's not safe'...”

“I wasn't...”

“I know you Derek Hale. I know what's going through your mind. You're gonna blame yourself and you're gonna think you have to protect me...oh, God...” Stiles' eyes squeezed closed and his hands shook against Derek's chest. 

Derek surged forward and clasped Stiles to him, cradling him in his arms and whispering in his ear. 

“I am never going to leave you. I'm not an idiot, I know you'll always be on the hunter's radar because even if there wasn't us, you'd still be pack. I know that. Just like I know, that if I ever lost you, I'd be broken.”

“You've been broken before,” Stiles whispered so quietly Derek only just managed to catch his words. He gripped Stiles' face between his hands and forced him to look up and meet his eye. 

“If I lost you, I would never be whole again because you...you're...”

“Your mate?” 

Derek blinked. 

“How did you know that?”

“Oh please, I researched the shit out of werewolves and you think I didn't come across that? I can feel it too you know?”

“Then you must know I will never leave you and I will protect you until my dying breath?”

“I feel like we've stepped into a Jane Austen novel.”

“I love you.”

Stiles smiled slightly and at last, the final glimmer of panic left his eyes. 

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr! Say hello, leave me a prompt, ask me a question...whatever you want, go crazy!
> 
> http://we-are-our-secrets.tumblr.com/
> 
> I would especially like prompts at this time as I want to write more Sterek just need a little more inspiration! <3


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